


habitual

by mylittleraygun



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Less than 1000 words, M/M, This isn't a very happy fic i dont think, but john is a good pal, but ooh man is this bad boy short!!, hal is existential, i dont really know what to tag, im not sure im capable of writing fluff, it makes up for that in shitty angst i promise, like always, rated teen for curse words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28844718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylittleraygun/pseuds/mylittleraygun
Summary: You watch him recede, his bright yellow rain boots standing out against the dark blue of the rest of his outfit. His messy hair seems so charming, which is odd. Usually, you react with disdain to a mess like he appears to be. But he’s just so. He’s different. What makes him so different?You realize, belatedly, that you are only wearing your socks and sweatpants.
Relationships: Auto-Responder | Lil Hal/John Egbert, but only if you squint - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	habitual

**Author's Note:**

> hahah, dirk hatred hours!!! i love the little rat but hes kind of a wannabe anime antagonist sometimes

Your socked feet pad quietly against the hardwood. The dim hallway is plain, without photos and a stark white. You pause, hovering by the window. It has a coating of the night's rain still on the glass, and you can hear a few birds cawing at the retreating moon, far off in the distance. There are other sounds as well. Human sounds. Tires skidding against the wet asphalt, and if you strain your sensors, you can even hear a few human voices on the sidewalk below. It feels dirty, in a way you can’t place. Not because cities are dirty. And they most certainly are. You just have that creeping feeling filling you again. That humanity as a whole is unclean. Like they're a disgrace to Mother Nature’s name. 

You rub at your eyes, turning away. The action is a habit, more than anything. You can see better than that of a human with one eye closed, and so rubbing your eyes isn’t expected to clear them. But it’s a human action, so you’ve adopted it. Just like you’ve adopted your many other habits. Eating. Charging at night. Taking showers. It makes you feel real. 

But that’s all they are, isn’t it? Habits. You don’t need those things, and when you think about it for too long you start to wonder if you are really real at all. You shake your head quickly, expelling the thoughts from your mind. Best not to get existential before you’ve had your coffee.

Now. Back to why you’re awake so early in the morning. Dave and John are arguing loud enough to summon you from your charging station. This better be good. It’s the middle of the fucking night.

You’re about to barge in, to demand that they shut the hell up in favor of your precious beauty rest, but something stops you. There’s a strange hush to the room, the whole apartment, in fact. It may just be because of the time of day, but this conversation feels too serious for you to disturb. 

So you snoop. Before you lean your head closer to the door, you turn your auditory sensors to a more acute level of sound detection. You can hear the tip-tapping of the residual rain, and the clicking of the clock above the kitchen sink. 

You focus on the boys behind the door. Dave’s pacing. You can tell it’s him by the small squeaks the old soles of his Converse make, as opposed to the heavier sounds of John’s yellow rain boots. You can’t hear any other walking, so either John’s standing very still or he’s sat on the bed in the middle of the room.

Dave continues to pace around the bed. “I just don’t get it. You’ve barely even talked to the guy, why the hell would you hate him?” Your breathing hitches. It’s you. They have to be talking about you.

“It’s not that big of a deal, really! He’s just. He’s so broody, all the time! It’s like he never lightens up, you know? His humor is terrible! He can’t even express himself. I just don’t like him, okay? It’s not like I’m going to get in fistfights with the guy, but I’m not going out of my way to have a chat with him.” 

Dave grumbles under his breath. “He hasn’t done anything to you though.” John stands with a sigh. “I think we’re going in circles, here. I’m not going to avoid him, or you. We’re still friends, right?” 

You're guessing Dave nods, from the affirmative “Well, great!” John chirps, and the muffled noise that you can only assume is John patting Dave on the back in assurance. Your shoulders slump in resignation, and you turn to leave- but John’s speaking again.

“Haha. It’s like he’s discount Hal, you know? Dirk’s like him, but with a stick up his ass. Hal’s so much cooler.” You freeze. You pull up your recent memory files, and replay what he said again, prepared to report a malfunction. But no. You heard him right.

Your chest explodes with warmth, and you feel an overwhelming, unidentifiable sensation rising in your throat. Full of a feeling you don’t quite understand, you quietly push open the front door to the hall. You lean against the wall, choking back the hysteric laugh bubbling up inside. He hates Dirk. He likes you better than your creator. 

You run a hand through your synthetic white hair, grinning like an idiot. The strange desire to scream envelopes you. Instead you laugh. You cackle like a madman, your hands covering your mouth. When you’ve calmed down a little, you sit, playing the moment from your memory files over and over and over. 

Startling, you freeze as John pushes open the front door. “Wh- Oh, hi Hal.” You’re giddy. This person, this person you barely know, he likes you. He likes you, and he hates Dirk. Oh, how often is it the other way around?

“Hey, John. Care to join me? I was having an existential crisis,” you say, smirking. He tilts his head to the side, amused yet curious. Your hands grip the grime-coated carpeting. “Sorry, bro. I’ve got morning classes today! But, if you’re ever having another crisis, hit me up!” John gives you a wink, and continues walking down the hall. 

You watch him recede, his bright yellow rain boots standing out against the dark blue of the rest of his outfit. His messy hair seems so charming, which is odd. Usually, you react with disdain to a mess like he appears to be. But he’s just so. He’s different. What makes him so different?

After a few moments, you stand. You realize, belatedly, that you are only wearing your socks and sweatpants.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I have long fics. I swear. I just can't finish them. I have 150 page google documents that I'm so close to finishing. It WILL happen. Eventually.  
> Also leave comments please I require them to function


End file.
